To Hell and Back
by Bob the Flying Monkey
Summary: Bubbles, Buttercup, and Blossom try to cope with the death of the Professor while Him attempts redemption in unconventional ways. Set in the future, girls aged to 18. Romance not the main focus - healing is.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I don't own PowerPuff Girls. _

**A/N: Enjoy.**

* * *

There were no words to describe her pain. Only a dull blade and a scar.

She pulled her legs to her chest, burying her nose between the pristine white tights. Inhaled. They still smelled like him, like the fabric softener he would pour over their clothes and inevitably onto himself. She used to giggle when he did that. Laundry day would ultimately turn into a special playtime for them – just the two of them. Her sisters preferred doing other chores with the Professor, leaving Bubbles to enjoy his company all by herself.

As she reflected on those precious moments, the tears came again. They flowed down her cheeks, following the same tired path they had long since worn into her pale skin. If this constancy of pain continued, the trails would become permanent. Then the world would know by her face how cruel it could be.

Bubbles sobbed softly, pulling in little gasps of breath that hitched on the ghosts of the wails she couldn't seem to rid from her body. That first night had left her speechless, her throat ragged and mangled, with the occasional clot of blood hacked up from the insatiability of her agony. No monster she had ever faced had done so much damage to her body as this single moment of tragedy, which continued to destroy her inside and out.

In the distance, a building exploded, alerting her to some calamity ensuing in Townsville. Bubbles wiped her face against her leg, hoping it would be enough to dry up the majority of her tears. She still had a job to do, even though it would never be as thrilling as it had been before the day her father died.

* * *

"Oh hell," Blossom cursed, looking up from the mess of papers strewn about the kitchen table. The Hotline phone was ringing again. "Is it too much to ask for some time off?" she griped. The paperwork had shown up the week following the Professor's death. Who knew there would be so many documents to fill out on a dead person? And all of it was time-sensitive. Did people not realize how difficult it was to focus on legal matters while grieving the loss of a parent? Furthermore, she was barely 18, and since the Professor had never felt the need to explain all this stuff to his children or even where to find the required information, she was stuck figuring everything out herself. It was a nightmare. Her sisters were certainly no help, not that she faulted them for that. She had always been the brains of the trio, and even she was baffled by the sheer amount of things the insurance company and federal government needed to know before proceeding with whatever it was they did that allegedly would make her loss more manageable. Rubbing her temples, she stood and answered the phone. "Yes, Mayor?"

It was Ms. Bellum. "Blossom, I'm so sorry to ask this of you, but…"

"I'll get right on it, Ms. Bellum. Thank you." She hung up the phone and flew off.

Blossom knew there was no point calling for either of her sisters. Ever since that day, she was the only one who spent time in the house anymore. Bubbles usually returned in time for dinner. Buttercup… well, who really knew? Blossom figured she would arrive on scene to find that Buttercup had already dismantled whatever monster was terrorizing the town this time. Bubbles would probably show up sometime later, covered in mud or grass or something that let her sisters know she was at least trying to work through this.

She couldn't blame Bubbles for her lethargy. After all, the poor dear had received the brunt of the attack. Blossom shuddered at the memory and pushed it aside to deal with later. Right now, she had a job to do.

Several miles ahead of her, the terror of the day made itself known by releasing an ear-piercing shriek. Then Buttercup made her presence known by promptly throttling the crap out of the beast. Its subsequent cries were of anguish rather than of conquest as its first had been. Flashes of green splattered the sky and surrounding area. They were of two different hues; the neon clearly belonged to the PowerPuff while the darker, grittier splashes of green that lingered on the skyscrapers and streets were more akin to monster guts. Blossom sighed in relief. One good thing about her sister was that she made the others' jobs easier.

Although Buttercup had always been prone to bursts of aggression, ever since the loss of their father her violence had escalated to a frightening level. Now it seemed rarer for her _not_ to give it her all in a fight. Whether this was for the better, Blossom could only speculate. Either way, she didn't plan to confront the girl about it.

"Buttercup," she called as she arrived. But there was no need for a summons.

Buttercup hovered about the desolation of the monster. By the looks of what was left, Blossom determined it had been some sort of bug thing. A snapped-off part of a mandible jutted from the face of a particularly window-manic building. That would be a pain to clean up. Fortunately, the Mayor had been kind enough to relieve them of that duty while they were in mourning. However, he had made that promise three weeks ago, directly following the death of Professor Utonium. How long would his kindness last? The citizens already had enough trouble recovering from the attacks without having to clean up giant monster carnage. It wouldn't be long before they began to refuse. Blossom hoped to have things in order before that happened. Heaven knew she didn't need any more paperwork on her plate.

"Done so quickly?" Blossom asked her sister, who had not turned to greet her.

Buttercup remained silent. Blossom bit her lip. She had received the silent treatment the last dozen times she had tried to console her sister. At least Buttercup hadn't immediately flown off this time. She waited, even though she didn't expect Buttercup to reply. For now, all she could do was wait.

Without turning her head, Buttercup grunted, "See you at dinner." Then she vanished, her neon trail blazing like a comet behind her.

Blossom sighed. She turned to fly back but was halted by the sudden presence of her other sister. Bubbles floated just a few feet away, her arms pulled up in front of her chest like she was holding something important. Blossom knew this look, and it hurt more than her own pain to see Bubbles suffer so. She fought the urge to avert her gaze and said, "Buttercup is coming to dinner."

Bubbles paused a moment before whispering, "Okay."

Blossom lingered for a moment, unsure of what to do. But Bubbles relieved her of that burden and flew off back the way she'd come. Blossom sighed again. She began her journey back to the house where a mountain of paperwork awaited her.

* * *

Below the Earth's mantle, far beyond the roiling magma no manmade machine had ever come close to reaching, a cavern of unfathomable proportions lay, at peace with its assurance that no uninvited stranger would ever chart its expanses. The thick balmy air swirled around the ceiling of the monstrous lair. Closer to the floor, the heat ebbed just enough to keep spontaneous combustion at bay. It was dark and ominous, which was what had attracted its keeper to it in the first place. The only light was a faint, bodiless glow that seemed to radiate throughout the entirety of the realm. A faint musk of brimstone wafted through the atmosphere. There were no walls in sight, or maybe there were. It could all be an illusion. It could be hell.

These theories and others had stirred through the Professor's mind as he lay flat on his back unable to move. How long had he been there? The answer was impossible. There was no indication of time in this god-forsaken place. There was nothing except foreboding and fear. Professor Utonium could feel nothing, could only see in front of him, straight up toward the ceiling which potentially did not exist. There was no sleep in this realm, no break between one segment of time and the next. There was nothing. There was nothing. There was nothing.

Then, there was something.

A presence – just beyond his line of sight – edged around the fringes of his vision as if it knew implicitly the exact parameters. No, it couldn't. He was imagining it. His mind was tricking him, having certainly gone insane in the perpetuity of his situation. Suddenly he breathed, which would have been a mediocre action had it not been the first time he was able to since he awoke here on the ground. The ground – he could feel it now. It was as hard as he had imagined, but his head and body were not sore from it. Not from what he could feel yet, anyway. He inhaled through his nose, blinked – something else he hadn't done until now. Every experience was new, the first time he had done anything but stare and stare and stare in this hellhole.

At length he felt confident enough to move his arms and legs. To his utter amazement, they did not tremble or resist at all. Logically, his muscles would have atrophied after such long disuse. But when he sat up and pushed his arms behind him for support, he felt no different than before. In fact, he actually felt better, like his body had been rejuvenate. He flexed and noted with relish a sensation of youthfulness he thought he had tapped out years ago.

"Mmmm."

The Professor snapped around at the unanticipated purr behind him. Horror gripped him, shoving back his eyelids until the round orbs within shown like saucers at his new companion. He tried to speak, but no words escaped his flapping jaw. A garbled sort of choking noise clawed out of his throat, which only elicited a deranged smile from the other man.

"So pleased you are awake, Professor." That voice. More than a face, a name, or any other sort of detail, that voice was unmistakable. There was only one creature who spoke with such a soft operatic quality that margarine envied its creamy texture.

So when Utonium finally gained control of his vocal cords, the first thing he said was, "Oh hell. It's Him."


	2. Chapter 2

Him grinned, his pearl white teeth gleaming with fiendish pleasure as he beheld his prisoner. Professor Utonium steeled his nerves, but the chill in his spine remained. "What have you done with my girls?"

"It's always about them, isn't it? No one wants you for your own merits, hmm? Really, Arthur, you should give yourself more credit."

He gritted his teeth. "Don't call me that."

Him purred again, enjoying his prisoner's irritation. "Why not? Are you so ashamed of your name, Arthur?" The demon drew out the word with feline emphasis, rolling the Rs to ensure as much discomfort to his guest as possible. It had the desired effect.

Having finally found his feet, Utonium rose and faced Him at a matched height. "I am in no mood for your games. I need to get home. If you're going to do something to me, just get it over with."

The demon giggled, striking The Professor's ears with a needle-like pain that drew the man's hands to his head. "Oh, dear friend! I am not going to hurt you. No, I have greater plans for you."

* * *

At the house, Blossom busied herself preparing dinner while Bubbles set the table her sister had cleaned off before she arrived. Bubbles knew how much work the poor girl still had ahead of her. Aside from all the financial documents, Blossom had had to fill out a police report upon their father's death. It had been nightmarish to recount the trauma, but Bubbles (who had been the true eye-witness) had been incapable. Her sisters had seen the beginning of the action, but it was Bubbles alone who had watched the Professor die. But she forced the memory from her mind as she set the table, hopeful for a normal family dinner with just the three of them again.

As Blossom turned off the stove on the last of the dishes, Bubbles joined her in the kitchen. "The table is set." Together, they transferred the food into nice platters and transported them into the dinning room.

Upon entering the room, Blossom noticed that her sister had arranged a bouquet of fresh flowers as the centerpiece. "Oh, Bubbles. It looks perfect."

Bubbles smiled to herself, her left shoulder hitching slightly as her chin bent toward it. "It's how it should be."

They began setting the food down on the table. That was when Blossom found the one thing wrong with the arrangement. "Bubbles, you set four plates."

Bubbles froze, staring at the extra place setting. Staring like she couldn't comprehend, couldn't move past this oversight in her preparation. Blossom noticed, and quickly amended, "It's fine. Nothing to worry about."

Right then, the doorbell rang, jarring the two sisters. Bubbles zipped over to answer it. She briefly noted how strange it was for Buttercup to be so formal coming into her own house, but her hand was already on the knob and pulling it open before she could stop herself to reconsider.

Blossom saw him first – one of the most impertinent enemies they had ever faced. His slicked-down black hair gleamed in the halo of the porch light. He wore street clothes with his trademark leather jacket and sharp sunglasses, fancying himself a regular suburban thug.

Ace tilted his head forward, glancing over his sunglasses at Bubbles. "Hello, Sugarpuff."

Blossom zapped to the door, gripping it above the knob. "What are you doing here?"

His smile only grew. "Blossom! Nice to see you too."

Blossom grimaced. "Answer the question." Her hand rose slightly at the elbow, glowing with the pink threat of punishment.

"He's here with me." From behind Ace, Buttercup took a step into the light. Blossom gasped. Buttercup frowned, "Oh, don't look so surprised. You'd be lying if you said you never suspected it."

Blossom glanced between her sister and the leader of the Gangreen Gang. Although he was a minor blip, more a nuisance than a danger, Ace was still a bad guy. Blossom couldn't understand how Buttercup had formed a relationship with him. Her glare returned to Ace. _He must have bewitched her somehow,_ she thought. But even before she could accuse him, she knew it was not true. Maybe Buttercup didn't love him, not yet. But whatever her feelings for the villain, they were genuine and wholly hers.

Begrudgingly, Blossom stepped aside and allowed the couple in. "Guess we will be needing that extra place setting after all."

Bubbles stepped back timidly, but less out of fear of Ace himself than anxiety over the fresh tension in the room. She had never had anything personal against him or his brothers. If they hadn't been villains, she'd always thought they could have been friends. But Blossom was strongly set against "fraternizing with the enemy," as she so eloquently put it.

Ace seated himself beside Buttercup. At least he wasn't arrogant enough to assume the head of the table. _Or stupid enough_, Blossom thought. He might would have had Bubbles set a plate there. But all four were on the long sides of the table.

The dinner progressed in silence, each person scooping food onto their plate and eating without so much as a word to the others at the table. Bubbles spooned at her peas and glanced up occasionally at the couple opposite her. They did not speak to each other as they devoured their food. Buttercup generally didn't speak at the table until she had eaten enough to be tolerant, but tonight's case held extra weight.

Finally, when she couldn't stand it any longer, Blossom blurted out her thoughts. "Is that where you've been staying?"

"Spending the night, yes," Buttercup answered with the most casual of tones. Of course, this was unacceptable to the red-head. She opened her mouth to spout out a self-righteous moral lecture when Buttercup cut her off. "If you're going to scold me for screwing a villain, don't bother."

"After what happened to Father –"

"Do you honestly think I'm so stupid?" Buttercup slammed down her utensils, finally losing her temper. "That I'm so immature I would turn to sex for lack of a dominant male figure? Do you know me at all?" Blossom began to respond, but her sister cut her off again. "Or maybe you think I'm entirely ruled by my emotions – that my irrational mind can't comprehend one type of love for another."

Ace put his hand on Buttercup's back, visibly calming her. She took a steadying breath and relaxed her coiled shoulders. Ace addressed the other two, "We aren't sleeping together the way you think. I promise I haven't 'defiled' your sister."

"I never said 'defiled'," Blossom snapped.

"But you implied it," Buttercup retorted.

"What do you do, then?" Blossom asked, unable to accept their words. "If you're not sleeping together –"

"Oh, we are sleeping together," Ace confirmed. "Make no mistake of that. We just aren't having sex. I'm a gentleman, after all." He grinned at her facetiously.

Blossom gritted her teeth. "How can you love such an insolent waste of existence?" she asked her sister.

Buttercup responded by slamming her fists down and standing. Her hands ignited with green fury. Blossom jumped to her feet, all hopes for a happy family dinner dashed like Buttercup's boyfriend was about to be. The whole house shook, lights flickering as the electricity between them built into a storm of titanic proportions.

Bubbles pushed back from the table, knocking down her chair with a reverberating clatter. It startled her sisters, but not the way she would have liked, and the room lit up with streaks of neon. The sisters were on each other, punching and biting and clawing as they flew through the dining room like a bullet in a metal vault.

"Buttercup," Ace yelled, but his words were drowned out by a bolt of hot pink lightning shot at his head. He didn't have time to duck, but Bubbles pushed him aside in time for only his bangs to be singed.

"Stop it!" Bubbles yelled.

Her sisters ignored her, opting to continue ruining the evening with their rivalry. They crashed through the wall at last and out into the yard. Tufts of hair feathered the air in their wake, but they had vanished by the time Ace and Bubbles made it outside. He turned to the final Powerpuff and said, "Fly me!" So off they went.

They found the girls at the edge of the forest, still pummeling each other. Bubbles dropped Ace a foot off the ground and joined the fracas of lights. Where green and red were clashing, now blue injection suddenly snapped them apart. The dust cleared, revealing Bubbles in between her sisters with an arm holding each apart. "Stop."

"She started it!" her sisters cried in unison.

Bubbles turned to Blossom first. "You are treating Buttercup like a child, but we are all the same age. She can handle herself as well as you can."

"Yeah!" Buttercup yelled.

Bubbles turned to her next. "And you shouldn't drop a bomb like this on us without any forewarning. Even if Blossom overreacted –"

"Hey!"

"– it wouldn't have been so bad if you'd given us a heads up before waltzing in with your new boyfriend."

Buttercup crossed her arms and pulled away. "He's not my boyfriend."

Blossom, who had been pouting, caught her sister's mumbled reply. "What did you say?"

Buttercup rolled her eyes, her scowl deepening. "I said he's not my boyfriend."

Blossom edged closer, her voice low with suspicion. "Then what is he?"

Ace inched closer to Buttercup, reaching out an arm to grab her waist, but stopped himself. He knew Buttercup didn't like showing affection in public. Having noticed this, Buttercup uncrossed her arms and pulled his around her back. His green hand rested on her hip, complementing her standard outfit. With the slow grace of a swordsman preparing to duel, the Powerpuff drew a tattered baggy out of her bra. Breaking the seal, she shook the contents out into the palm of her hand. A single hoop of metal fell out. A ring.

As if they had practiced it, Ace took the ring from her hand and slipped it onto her finger. They looked up at the two girls. "He's my fiancé."


End file.
